The Purpose of the Sofas
by Marble Swans and Whiskey
Summary: The sofas in Josh, Leo and Toby's offices were placed there for a reason. Toby never learned that reason and his resentment is growing over the amount of time Josh's wife spends sitting on the one in his. Josh/OC; past Toby/Andrea


_Disclaimer:__ The West Wing and its characters are owned by Aaron Sorkin and Warner Bros. Inc. I make no money from the writing of this piece of fan fiction. I only own the original character of Anne Lyman._

_This story is written as a series of vignettes and drabbles set vaguely from when the series starts until just before President Bartlet's re-election. There are some moments that specifically allude to certain events and others that are nowhere in time._

_This is my first story, it's quite lightweight and fluffy. I do love the Josh/Donna pairing but for this story I just had to pair Josh with the OC, in my mind he works best. I have taken some license in places and please forgive me if I have messed up any legislative procedures pertaining to the US government. I am not from the United States and any mistakes are unintentional. I am also aware that some of the situations described below are a little farfetched in terms of a regular workplace, but of course The West Wing White House is anything but regular._

_I hope you enjoy._

_._

**The Purpose of the Sofas**

Toby Ziegler came to an abrupt halt almost as soon as he entered the entrance foyer to the West Wing. With a slight scowl, he observed his colleague, Josh Lyman, as he drew an attractive, light-brown haired woman into his embrace and kissed her. The pair rested their foreheads together for a moment, speaking softly before they kissed once more and the woman left, their hands remaining connected for as long as possible and loving smiles adorning their faces.

Toby watched Josh as he gazed after his wife until she was completely out of sight. Once he was sure she had gone, Josh looked at his watch, turned on his heel and strode in the direction of his office, bellowing for his assistant as he did so. From Toby's vantage point he had a clear view of Josh entering his office, his blonde assistant scurrying in after him. Toby shook his head in annoyance and continued the path he was on to CJ Cregg's office before he had been side tracked.

.

"Hey, Toby, what do you need?" Josh asked when he noticed the Communications Director standing in his doorway.

"You got the final draft of the speech for the—why does your office always look as though a bomb's hit it?" Toby asked in exasperation as he took a few steps into the room.

Josh looked around as if noticing the state of the room for the first time. "It's organised chaos," he dismissed. "Yeah, the final draft was sent over last night; I made some notes." Josh rummaged under a pile of papers and extracted a thick, bound document. "I'd pay particular attention to section eighty-six," he said, handing the multiple post-it notes marked booklet to Toby. "Some of the language will need updating after the changes that were made to the Wellness Act late yesterday."

"Again?" Toby closed his eyes and turned his head, letting out a small laugh of disbelief. "You assured me that there was no chance of any changes being made that would remotely affect the text of this speech. We put it to bed at five pm—a personal best, if I may say so, and now you're telling me there needs to be _changes_," he paused for emphasis, "made to the language?" Toby said this all in an infuriatingly calm manner but with an undertone of incredulity that a job he had considered finished now had to be re-examined.

"What can I say, Toby?" Josh shrugged. "The Republicans didn't get your memo. _DONNA!_" he shouted. A slim, attractive blonde woman came to the door, her arms full of folders.

"You bellowed?" she asked sweetly.

"Do you have the notes from—" Josh began to ask only to be interrupted by his efficient assistant.

"From the committee informing you of the changes to the Wellness Act," Donna finished for him, holding out a file. Josh indicated with his chin for her to hand it to Toby. "You have Leo in five, Sam in twenty and somewhere in there you promised CJ you'd check her briefing note about the President's latest health check," Donna reminded him.

"Yeah," Josh said, acknowledging he had heard her.

"Also, Anne called and said if you don't want Thai food for dinner then text her, otherwise she'll see you at seven," Donna continued.

"That's fine, if you talk to her again today tell her that's fine," Josh said. "Get her to pick some up for you, too."

Donna smiled. "She already offered," she told him. "And you should text her anyway," Donna admonished him.

"Okay, I'll have an hour with her at least?" he asked. He raised his eyebrows as he looked at his assistant, clearly seeking approval of his tight schedule.

"Yes," Donna confirmed. "But you have a meeting with Congressman Peters at eight in the Mural Room. Leo in three," she said, handing him the rest of the files before she left to go back to her desk.

"I shall go and make these changes then," Toby said, waving the file he had been handed. He looked at the leather sofa which sat against the wall next to the door. "You know if you stacked some of those files on this sofa, you'd clear space on your desk where you could, I don't know, actually get some order," he said, pointing at the empty, pristine, brown leather of the three-seater sofa.

"The sofa stays as it is," Josh said absently, already reading the notes Donna had handed him.

Toby stared at his colleague contemplatively for a moment before turning and striding out the door.

.

"Josh, I need you to—" the voice of Leo McGarry cut off abruptly when he recognised the person currently sitting in Josh's chair, grinning at him. Laughter erupted from the leather sofa to his right and he turned to see Josh and Anne sitting comfortably side by side and eating out of white take-out boxes.

"You need me to what, Leo?" Donna asked mischievously from Josh's chair behind the desk, her own dinner in her hands as she ate her meal with her boss and his wife.

Leo shook his head and let out a breath of laughter. "Josh," he repeated, now addressing the man himself, "I need you to see me after your meeting with the Senator to go over some last minute arrangements for the California trip next week."

"Okay," Josh agreed affably.

"Anne, you're not coming with us this time?" Leo asked.

Anne let out an indelicate snort of derision. "If you weren't having another Hollywood schmooze fest then I might have considered it," she said. "Anyway, I have a meeting with my publisher on Wednesday. I have to keep the big bucks rolling in order to support us in the lifestyle to which we have become accustomed while Josh earns his meagre government salary and follows his dreams," she teased.

Josh grinned into his food container. He and Anne were very well off; his trust fund alone was more than enough for them to live off comfortably while they both pursued their dream careers—he in the Bartlet Administration of the White House and she as a successful author.

"The Hollywood schmooze fests are what bring in _our_ big bucks," Leo said. "Although, if I could get out of going, I would too," he confessed. "You'll be around for a while tonight?" he asked. Anne nodded. "Come see me while Josh is in his meeting, I want to talk to you about your new release."

"Okay," Anne smiled. Josh nudged her and gave her a sideways smirk.

.

"Josh?" Toby asked, opening the door to the other man's office and stepping in.

"He's in the Roosevelt Room," a feminine voice said distractedly over the tapping of keys on a laptop.

Turning at the sound of the voice, he identified Josh's wife on the leather sofa, sitting with her back resting against the arm, her stockinged feet stretched out on the cushions, typing furiously into her computer. "Anne, how are you?" Toby asked. Anne held up one finger briefly then continued to type for several moments, clearly completing whatever thought was running through her mind. Toby waited, only slightly impatiently, for her to finish, knowing only too well how interruptions could disrupt the flow of writing.

After she had finished transcribing her thoughts, Anne looked up with a smile. "I'm fine thanks, Toby, how are you?" she asked.

"Fine," Toby answered shortly. He did not go in for small talk. "You said Josh is in the Roosevelt Room?"

"Yes, with some labor delegation and a union or something," Anne replied.

"Do you know how long he'll be?" Toby asked.

Anne raised her eyebrows at him and gave him _the look_ that women reserved for men who had asked a stupid question. "I am not Josh's assistant, Toby, I'm his wife," she said, turning her attention back to the laptop screen. "Donna will have more of an idea about that; I'm just waiting here patiently for him."

"You seem to wait here patiently for him a lot," Toby commented.

"If I was at home right now I would be sitting on our sofa in exactly this same position, doing exactly what I'm doing now," she said, resuming her typing. "At least if I do this here I have the chance to see my husband between his meetings and actually have the opportunity to speak with him for a few minutes."

"You're the only one of the wives that does this," Toby pointed out.

Anne looked up from her keyboard again. "I'm the only one who is the wife of a Senior Staff member," she reminded him. "If you go out into the Bullpen now, you will only find Donna, James and a few interns, none of whom are married. All the married staff went home around the time I got here."

"You resent the fact that Josh doesn't spend much time at home?" Toby asked, his hackles rising. "He is the Deputy White House Chief of Staff, Anne; his job is to be here serving the President until we're done for the day! He doesn't need to have pressure from you about the hours he keeps."

"Toby," Anne said, her eyes narrowing slightly in warning. "Did you hear me complain? Have you ever heard me complain about the hours Josh keeps? I know his job, I know the demands he faces, and I know he takes pride in meeting every one of them. I, in turn, take pride in supporting him while he does it. I come here most evenings in order to spend a few minutes with my husband that I wouldn't otherwise get to spend with him. Did you come in here for something specific?"

"No," Toby said. "Just let him know I was here."

"Again, Toby, I'm not his assistant. Donna is right outside, give her your message," Anne said, her focus back on the screen.

Toby shut the door a little harder than he would normally do.

.

Anne Lyman strolled through the corridors of the West Wing at the President's side. He said something to her and he laughed at her response. Toby watched as Josh approached the pair, joining in with their banter for a few minutes until the President excused himself, fondly kissing Anne's cheek before he left.

Toby could not explain why the scene aggravated him so much.

.

"We're in the middle of a crisis and you're leaving?" Toby asked incredulously.

"Crisis," Josh repeated. "What crisis?"

"There are only three weeks until the State of the Union Address and we are stuck on the language laying out the President's new defense platform!" Toby argued, the volume of his voice rising steadily until he was shouting.

Josh stayed maddeningly calm in the face of Toby's ire. "You're stuck on the flow, not the language. The language has been constant since last week; it's yours and Sam's jobs to turn it into proper prose. Wow, say that five times fast," he muttered. "The point is there is nothing you need me here for tonight. I am taking the latest notes from Legislative Affairs home with me to read so I can have that information summarised for you tomorrow. I am taking my wife out to dinner at, you know, _dinnertime_, and then going home to work for the rest of the evening. I might actually head to bed at an hour that will enable me to get slow-wave sleep." Donna smirked from Josh's side as she passed him files to pack in his bag. More proof he actually did read the summaries and research she prepared for him. "You never know, the State of the Union might benefit from you doing the same thing."

Toby scoffed. "I don't have a wife to take to dinner," he said petulantly. He did not appreciate the raised-eyebrow expression that Josh sent his way, as though his marriage-breakdown was caused by not taking his wife to dinner. If he had even suggested it, Andrea would have found some excuse not to go out anyway. "You'll be in early tomorrow?" Toby asked.

"I have a meeting on the Hill at eight thirty," Josh told him. "I'm going straight there from home, and then I'm heading over to MSNBC for a live Q and A at ten. I should be in the office around eleven thirty."

Toby turned on his heel and left the Deputy Chief of Staff's office. As he stalked down the corridor to his own office he wondered, not for the first time, if Josh had the level of commitment necessary to do this job.

.

"Will you be okay?"

"Anne, I'm not going to have a breakdown because you're out of town for a few days."

"I can cancel it; the book will still be there in a couple of weeks."

"You're booked on Oprah's Book Club. We can't even get the First Lady on Oprah's show—hey, make sure you plug the Health Care Reforms for us while you're talking to her! That could give us another five votes just from constituents watching her show and phoning their representatives—"

Anne knelt up on the sofa and moved closer to Josh, putting her fingers on his lips to cut him off. "Josh, I don't work for the White House, I don't plug health care reforms or promote education tax credits. The extent of my involvement in the Bartlet Administration is to be your escort at various social and political functions and to tell people that I agree with you," she reminded him patronisingly. Josh put his arm around her while at the same time nipping at her fingers which were still pressed against his lips. "And don't change the subject; I will cancel the book tour if you need me more."

"I need you, I need you every day," he said softly. "As long as I can get you on the other end of a phone line, that's enough."

"You can get me on the other end of a phone line any time, day or night," Anne promised him. "Getting you on the other end… that's sometimes slightly problematic," she teased. Josh started tickling her in retaliation for her comment, causing her to squeal and squirm until they were fully lying on the sofa, Anne pinned beneath him and the two of them panting from the exertion.

"The last time I was out of town for an extended period you ended up putting your hand through a window," Anne said quietly. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and one slipped down her temple. Josh leaned forward and kissed it away.

"I know, and because of that, we know the signs and we know how I can get help. I promise, nothing will happen while you're away," Josh assured her earnestly.

"Okay," Anne agreed. "I'm going to have Donna check up on you."

"Most wives tell their husbands to stay away from their cute secretaries…" Josh quipped. Anne smiled at his joke. "I'll be fine," he said.

"I'll be checking." She shifted slightly on the sofa. "Do you think the Office of Administration will let us buy this sofa in five years' time?"

"It is extraordinarily comfortable, isn't it?" Josh asked.

"If we were to buy it and move it home, we could have sex on it," Anne whispered with a wicked grin on her face.

Josh groaned. "You are evil," he accused. "You know Donna's going to bang on that door any second and tell me the President's ready for me in the Oval and you're going to send me in there with that image in my head."

As if on cue, there was a brisk knock on the door and Donna's voice filtered through. "Josh, they're ready for you in the Oval Office."

"Right!" he called back. "I have to go."

"Go," Anne said.

"You'll be here?"

"Always."

.

Toby observed Anne Lyman sitting at the desk behind Donna's in the Operations Bullpen. For once she did not appear to be writing, the two women were sitting face to face and having an in-depth discussion about something. They jumped when Josh appeared suddenly and appeared to be denying something. Anne got up to follow Josh into his office, turning at the door and grinning conspiratorially at Donna before closing the door.

It seemed she almost had the run of the place.

.

"DONNA!"

"You know you have an intercom."

"Yeah… DONNA!"

"I'm just sayin'. It's right there, on your phone."

"Mmm… DONNA!"

"Has a little label on the button. You just press it and lo and behold! All of a sudden you're a civilised human being and not a Neanderthal."

"Right… _DONNA!_" By now, Josh's shouting had reached maximum volumes.

"Josh, she hasn't answered you, do you think, maybe, she's not actually there?"

"Where else would she be?"

"Getting you a coffee?"

"Donna never gets me coffee."

"Damn straight! I told her not to."

"What? When?"

"When you hired her."

"When she hired herself you mean."

"Whatever, anyway, as I happened to be in Nashua that day and I was recognised by your new assistant by the photo you keep on your desk, she asked me how you like your coffee and I told her that you drink too much of it and she wasn't to bring you any. That's how I know she's a great assistant for you—she listens to me."

"How do you write a best seller while at the same time explaining to me how you undermined my access to caffeine?"

"I'm a woman, Josh, I can multi-task."

Josh leaned back in his chair and gazed fondly at his wife as she sat on her sofa and single-mindedly tapped at the keys on her laptop. In the years since they had taken office in the White House, his favourite times had become these—the two of them sitting in his office, him working on policy and her working on her latest literary masterpiece, and just _being_.

.

Toby saw a small crowd of interns hanging around the door to Josh's office. He briefly wondered what they were doing there and assumed that Josh and Donna were occupied elsewhere otherwise the interns would never dare to congregate as they were. He walked into CJ's office without knocking and jumped at the shrieking of the two women within at him to close the door. Anne Lyman was camped on CJ's sofa, laptop and all, just as she usually was in her husband's office. Toby did not really listen as CJ explained that Anne was hiding out in her office to avoid the crowd of interns that all wanted her to sign her new book.

The woman was always around.

.

"—need another eighteen votes if we have any chance of…Toby? Do need something?" Josh asked as soon as he recognised the Communications Director sitting on the sofa in his office.

"Josh, the President needs the talking points for the Water Conservation Plan. You promised we would have them by now. We can't send him out there without knowing what it is he needs to say."

"Yeah, I know," Josh said unconcernedly. "I sent them over to Leo's office this morning."

"You didn't think to show them to me first?" Toby asked quietly.

"No, Leo asked for them and I gave them to him," Josh replied.

"Josh, given the current attention being placed on this issue, I need to see these things before the President does," Toby said.

"Toby, the President doesn't have them, Leo does and did you think that—can you please sit in one of these chairs?" Josh asked, indicating the chairs he kept in his office for visitors.

Toby let out a small laugh of disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"The chairs, I need for you to sit in one of the chairs."

"No."

"Or stand, whatever, just please don't sit on the sofa."

"I'm sorry, is there a problem with me sitting on the sofa? Because the last time I checked, there was no regulation around here dictating which seats people could or could not sit on."

"I know, it sounds weird… but please, I just find it easier…"

"You find it easier?" Toby mocked. "I'm trying to have a serious discussion with you about Presidential policy and you're hung up on the seating charts?"

"I just can't… you're sitting on Anne's sofa and it's not where people I'm trying to have serious discussions with sit."

"_Anne's sofa_," Toby repeated. The disbelieving laugh was heard again. He made a show of looking around and beside the leather seat. "I don't see a sign anywhere proclaiming this sofa to belong to your wife. In fact, I don't see anyone else's wife in this building with a permanently reserved space nor one who spends as much time here as yours! What is it about her that she deserves such special treatment?"

Josh just stared at him following his tirade and shook his head. Toby could not be sure, but he almost identified a brief flash of pity in Josh's eyes.

"You just don't get it, Toby."

.

Josh and Donna slipped into Toby's crowded office. Donna squeezed through the press of bodies to lean against the wall next to CJ's assistant, Carol, while Josh took a seat on the sofa between Sam and Larry.

"Where's Ed?" he asked. Ed and Larry were so often seen together it was a running joke around the West Wing that where you could find one, you would find the other.

"He's sick," Larry replied.

Josh made a little show of moving away from him. "I hope it's not contagious—you've probably already got it," he joked.

"Nah, I had it last week and gave it to him," Larry shot back. The two men laughed as Toby came in and called the meeting to order.

As he looked around he saw Josh sitting on the sofa. "Josh?" he asked.

"Yeah?" Josh asked briskly.

"Maybe you'd like to take a different seat?" Toby asked.

Josh was understandably confused. "There are no other seats," he said. The room would not have been able to fit another person in it.

"I just know you're aware how sacrosanct sofas can be in offices," Toby said. The pair stared at each other challengingly until Josh slowly stood up and moved to stand next to his assistant. One of the other team members filled his vacant seat and Toby started the meeting.

As Toby spoke, Josh's attention wandered. He knew if he focused on the sound of Toby's voice, he would quickly get angry and a meeting filled with their subordinates was not the place to air their grievances. Truth be told, he was extremely pissed that Toby had even said anything. Donna nudged him and pointed at her notebook. He read what she had written: _What's up?_ He quickly shook his head, indicating nothing and signalled for her to take notes.

As soon as the meeting finished, Josh pushed off the wall and exited the room. He did not trust himself to be able to keep his cool and he did not want to engage the Communications Director in a petty argument as though they were back in high school. He knew that once he distanced himself a bit, he would calm down. He asked Donna to see if he could fit lunch with Anne into his schedule and she promised to set it up for him at a café away from the White House.

Donna knew Anne was researching at the Smithsonian that day and would not have a problem meeting up with Josh. She wondered what had gotten Toby in such a snit and made a mental note to give Anne the heads up that Josh might be a bit belligerent.

Back in Toby's office, Sam Seaborn closed the door after the last person left and turned to face his boss. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"Sam, I pay you to pay attention in these meetings, not hang back after for a recap. Ask Kathy if you have any questions," Toby said.

"Not about the meeting," Sam said impatiently. "What the hell was up with making Josh move from the sofa? He always sits there."

"Apparently I'm not good enough to sit on the sofa in his office; I'm just returning the consideration," Toby said petulantly.

"What?" Sam asked. He was completely confused by Toby's answer.

"The sofa in his office is reserved for Anne, apparently, so if I am relegated to standing or finding another chair in his office then so is he in mine."

Sam could not believe what he was hearing. "Of course the sofa's for Anne," Sam said.

Toby threw his hands in the air in frustration. "It's just a damn sofa!" he shouted.

"Yeah, and it's where they spend their scant time together," Sam argued. "Can you blame him for having one piece of furniture in this place that he equates with relaxation and downtime and not work?"

"This is a workplace, Sam, not an extension of their apartment. If he wants to spend time with her cuddling on the sofa then maybe he needs to find another job!" Toby ranted.

Sam just shook his head. "Boy, you just don't get it, do you?" he asked. Knowing he would get nothing out of Toby except more arguments, he left the office, closing the door behind him and going into his own.

Toby stared at the closed door, Sam's last words still hanging in the air.

Josh had said the exact same thing to him.

.

Toby entered CJ's office for a scheduled meeting with the Press Secretary and Leo McGarry. The three exchanged brief greetings before Leo suggested they get started.

"Have a seat on the sofa, Toby," CJ said.

"Are you sure? I've seen Anne sitting here on several occasions, I wouldn't want to overstep any boundaries," he said. He smiled in an attempt to cover up his petulance. It did not work. Both CJ and Leo stared at him as though he had grown another head.

"What are you talking about, Toby? The sofa is there to be sat on," CJ told him.

"After I was booted from the sofa in Josh's office, I thought I'd better check."

"Is that why you told Josh he wasn't allowed to sit on the sofa in your office, Toby?" CJ asked.

A light seemed to go on behind Leo's eyes. His assistant, Margaret, had told him about the odd behaviour of the Communications Director when he had asked for a summary of the meeting from the day before. He had written it off as Toby simply being in a bad mood, something he seemed to indulge in more and more these days. He shook his head and chuckled quietly. "You just don't get it, Toby," he said, straightening up and preparing to start the meeting.

It was too much for Toby. Three men had told him the same thing over the last three days. "What? What don't I get, Leo?" Toby spat the question out in his frustration.

Normally Leo would not indulge his senior staff in their petty arguments, but this one was hitting a little close to home for him. "Did you pay any attention to the furnishings when we arrived here?" Leo asked.

"Furnishings?" Toby almost spluttered. Why the hell would he have been thinking about the furnishings? He walked into his office on the first day and saw that he had a desk, a chair, a bank of televisions on the wall and plenty of space to store his policy and legislative documents. That was all he needed. It took Sam coming in and sitting on the sofa before he even noticed it was there. As the weeks went by he realised the long, comfortable seat was a good place for holding informal meetings and had added a couple of extra chairs and a low table, but once that was sorted, he had never thought about the furnishings again.

"Did you not notice the three almost identical sofas in yours, Josh's and Leo's offices?" CJ asked.

"No," Toby replied. "I mean, I knew they were there but I didn't take any notice of their looks." He looked at the sofa he and Leo were now sitting on. "This one is the same as well," he said.

"This is the one that started in my office," Leo told him.

"So?" Toby asked.

"I wanted a traditional, matching, three piece suite in my office and had one installed at my own expense," Leo said. "CJ claimed this one that was originally in my office."

Toby looked at Leo as though he had gone mad. "I don't understand why we're sitting here discussing interior decorating," he said sarcastically.

"The President put them there, Toby," CJ said.

Toby chuckled and wiped his hand down his face. "You're trying to tell me that the newly-elected President of the United States, a man who, by his own admission, only cared about getting in here and getting the job done, took the time to make sure there were _sofas_," he paused slightly for emphasis, "in three of his staff's offices?"

"In three of his Senior Staff's offices," CJ corrected pointedly.

"I fail to see the distinction or the relevance," Toby said querulously.

"What was one thing that you, Josh and I had in common at the time of the inauguration that none of the other Senior Staff did?" Leo asked.

Toby sniffed and crossed his legs. "I really don't have time for this," he said. "Can we get to the point?"

"I'm the White House Chief of Staff," Leo reminded him. "You think I have time to sit around talking about interior decorating?"

"You started the conversation, Leo," Toby shot back.

"And right now I'm talking about the White House Communications Director taking his head out of his ass for five seconds and thinking about what might have driven the President, a committed, loving, family man, to ensure that three of his Senior Staff members had a particular comfort in their offices," Leo argued.

"Leo," Toby began in exasperation but was immediately cut off.

"The President put those sofas in our offices for Jenny, Andrea and Anne. Abby pulled each one aside separately and told her that she would be welcome in the West Wing every evening to spend even a few minutes downtime with her husband if she wished to and the sofa in his office was for that purpose, so they would be comfortable and have a place to call their own," Leo told him.

Toby scoffed. "Andrea never said anything about it," he said.

"Jenny told me about it but she declined Abby's offer," Leo said. "She figured she had gone through thirty years of marriage without seeing me in my office every night and saw no reason to change now. We all know how that turned out. I don't presume to know what you and Andy did or did not discuss during your marriage but I do know that Anne has been in here nearly every night that Josh has stayed back after hours; and you know that is most nights. What does it tell you that his marriage is the only one out of our three that has survived this Administration so far?"

There was silence as Toby digested this information. "Anne is an independent, successful career-woman, just like Andy, and you're trying to tell me the reason she is here nearly every night is so she can spend time with the man who goes home to her anyway once he leaves here?" Toby suddenly had a flashback to a conversation he had once had with Anne. _'If I was at home right now I would be sitting on our sofa in exactly this same position, doing exactly what I'm doing now. At least if I do this here I have the chance to see my husband between his meetings and actually have the opportunity to speak with him for a few minutes.'_

That had been one of Andrea's arguments during their marriage break-up. _'I never see you, Toby. We're both at the office late—you much later than me. Can't you take the time, maybe two or three times a week to be here? In our house? With me?'_ He was reminded again of Josh's habit of always keeping one night a week clear after seven to spend at home with his wife and Anne was in his office most of the other nights, making sacrifices, making time for her husband. Something neither he nor Andrea had been willing to do.

"I'm not married, Toby, never have been," CJ said. "But even I know a marriage is about compromise and sacrifice. Yes, Anne is here nearly every night, but why is it that you are the only person who seems to have a problem with it?"

Toby cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Let's get started," he said huskily.

Leo and CJ shared a look before beginning to discuss the topic they had met for.

.

"Of course you can count on my support, Toby," Congresswoman Andrea Wyatt said. She smiled brightly, having negotiated a few key advantages for her constituents in return for her support for President Bartlet's new budget deal.

"Thank you," Toby replied. He liked meetings like this one with members of the House of Representatives. He knew that Andrea thought she had the upper hand but he had come into this meeting knowing exactly what Leo and the President were willing to bend on to get her support and he had not even had to give in to a quarter of what they were expecting. Andrea was in her third term of Office and he was already out-negotiating her. He felt cocky. "Did you bring pie?" he asked.

"No," Andrea smirked. "The last time I offered you pie, you knocked it back so I kept it all for myself this time."

"That's too bad," Toby said. "I thought it might be nice, for you to sit there on that sofa and spend a few minutes with me… we could have shared some pie."

Something about his tone clued Andrea into the fact that he was aware of the significance of the sofa being in his office. Her mind flashed back to four nights before the inauguration of President Bartlet, when Abby Bartlet had asked to speak with her privately.

_"Andy, how are you coping with all the hoopla around here?" Abby asked._

_"I'll be honest with you, Mrs Bartlet, it's been pretty crazy. I haven't been able to spend much time with Toby these last few months what with him dealing with the transition here and me spending most of my time on the Hill and in my district. We'll work it out though," Andrea said stoically._

_"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Jed and I are so grateful to Toby and everyone for all the hard work they've put in to get us here. From what I can tell though the pace isn't likely to ease up. There'll be a lot of late nights and last minute crises to cope with over the next four years," Abby said._

_"Don't let anyone around here hear you talk about four years," Andrea said with a grin. "It won't be long before the word 're-election' starts being bandied about."_

_Abby smiled tightly. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," she dismissed. "It's very important to Jed that you continue to be an important part of Toby's life. He knows how driven Toby, Leo, Josh and, well, everyone is and he worries that their personal lives will start to suffer," she said gently._

_"Don't worry about it, ma'am, Toby and I both know what's at stake here," Andrea said uncomfortably. She wondered if the cracks that were slowly widening between her and her husband were finally becoming visible. She had been holding on with two hands to get through her own re-election in November and she knew that time together with Toby was about to become a thing of the past._

_"Your marriage is not at stake," Abby said firmly. "Jed has spoken with the Secret Service and you will be issued with a staff pass for the West Wing. It will allow you to come and go with access equal to that of Toby's Senior Assistant. He has even arranged for a sofa to be placed in Toby's new office so you have a comfortable place to sit and catch up on some work or reading or even sleeping if that's what you need to do so you can spend some time with your husband during, what will be, a lot of late nights and most likely weekends."_

_"Oh, I couldn't ask for special treatment," Andrea started to say._

_"It's not special treatment," Abby assured her. "I have the advantage of living on site in the White House so I will be able to easily come and go as I please. What I'm discussing with you I have already discussed with Jenny McGarry and will be discussing with Anne Lyman later on. This is for the Senior Staff Team. Only Toby, Leo and Josh are married. If Sam or CJ acquire a spouse then they will be offered the same largesse, but for now… this is very important to Jed, Andy. He believes very strongly in maintaining a healthy marriage."_

_Andrea smiled nervously. Her marriage had ventured from healthy to unhealthy a long time ago. A sofa in Toby's office was not going to save their relationship—if at all anything salvageable was left. Plus she had her own work and career to worry about. Yes, Toby could certainly expect eighteen hour days as the White House Communications Director, but she was a Congresswoman for crying out loud! Sixteen to eighteen hour days were not unheard of for her either. It was alright for Jenny and Anne—neither of them had a real job like she did. Jenny was a Washington Wife and Anne spent her days in libraries and researching when she wasn't off on a promotional tour to tout her latest best seller. Not to mention what Toby would think about his wife camping out in his office night after night while he was trying to work. He got annoyed if she went into his study at home. She saw that Mrs Bartlet was waiting for an answer though and so she nodded her head. _

_"Thank you, ma'am, I'm sure it will come in handy," she said neutrally. To her relief, the President-Elect's wife did not seem to think anything was amiss. They finished their conversation and parted ways. Andrea left the OEOB without even speaking to Toby._

"So now you know why there's a sofa in here and not one in Sam's office," Andrea commented.

"You never said the First Lady spoke to you about this," Toby said.

Andrea shook her head and let out a breath of amusement. "Do you really think this sofa would have saved the train wreck our marriage had become by that point?" she asked, gesturing to the piece of furniture she was sat upon. "You were gearing up for life as a workaholic, I was obsessed with becoming pregnant, and we barely spoke. If I had suggested spending even one night a week sitting here in your office watching you work, you would have pitched a fit."

"It works fine for Josh and Anne," Toby argued.

"A lot of things work for Josh and Anne that don't work for anyone else. There were things that worked for us that Josh and Anne would struggle mightily with. Everyone's relationship is different, Toby, you know that. Plus they have the added advantage of Anne having a job that only requires a place to sit and somewhere to perch her laptop."

"We could have—" Toby started but Andrea held up her hand to stop him talking.

"It was too late by then, Toby," she said. "So you know the purpose of the sofa being placed here. You never questioned it until now—you've occupied this office for nearly three years. I like where we are now. We can have a civil conversation and actually not want to beat each other's brains in after five minutes. And I know that I have a place to sit whenever I have some spare time to visit you."

Toby snickered. She was right. He would never tell the woman, of course, but she was right. Their marriage had already sounded the death knell several weeks before the inauguration. And they were not Josh and Anne. No one was Josh and Anne, just like no one was Leo and Jenny, or the President and the First Lady… or Toby and Andrea.

Andrea stood and placed a gentle kiss on Toby's cheek. "I'll call you next week," she promised.

Toby simply nodded before she walked out of the office. He looked at the sofa where she had been sitting. It would not have saved their marriage.

.

"He's an idiot!"

"Mmm."

"Seriously, I don't know how the man garnered even one vote let alone the thirty five thousand he got to take the seat."

"Mmm."

"Anne, I somehow get the feeling you're not listening to me."

"Mmm."

"Anne, your mom is coming for the weekend."

"Mmm—WHAT?"

"Well that got your attention."

"Dammit, Josh, I'm trying to write."

"You've been writing for six hours. I've been sitting here with you for the last hour and in all that time the only thing you commented on was Senator Brier's statement about his immigration proposal."

"The man's a jackass! Immigration is what helped make this country great!"

Josh tilted his head to the side and regarded his wife. "Some people would argue that limits on immigrants would help Americans to get jobs."

"Then those people are jackasses as well. The problem is that Americans don't want the jobs that the immigrants are lining up to do! They think it's _beneath them_." Sarcasm fairly dripped from the last two words. Josh smirked and lifted his beer bottle to his lips, taking a sip. Anne narrowed her eyes. "You're winding me up, aren't you?"

"It's just so easy to do, Baby."

Anne resumed typing. "Don't call me that." They both looked up at a knock on the door.

"Come in," Josh called.

The door opened and Toby entered.

Toby gestured to one of the chairs in front of Josh's desk and took a seat when Josh nodded to it, declining his offer of a beer. Anne closed her laptop and gave him her attention.

"I've been trying to get you to talk for an hour; Toby walks in and immediately gets your full attention?" Josh asked teasingly.

"Toby is infinitely more interesting to talk to than you," Anne shot back.

Toby observed the dynamic between the married couple. They were sitting in a way that he could honestly never remember he and Andrea ever had. Anne was sitting, as usual, with her back against the arm rest and her feet stretched out, this time laying in Josh's lap. Josh had sat up when Toby came in but had since leant to the side and was resting his upper body close to her knees, his free hand absently rubbing back and forth over her skin. It was intimate while at the same time appropriate for company. The company of someone the couple felt close too.

Clearing his throat, Toby said, "I owe the two of you an apology."

Josh sat up again, his look of confusion mirrored by his wife's. "For what, Toby?" Anne asked. Josh had a fair idea but he was surprised Toby was openly acknowledging it.

"Over the last several years, I have been resentful of the amount of time Anne has spent here. I believed she was a distraction to the office and several times have questioned her presence and why you allowed your wife such a liberty. I was especially resentful of this sofa, and your insistence that no one ever use it."

Josh nodded. Donna would often tell him that whispers were originating from Toby's office about Anne and the level of access she had to the building. Anne had told him of a few times that Toby had seemed pissed about it as well but he never confronted Toby about it as he knew that he had the President and First Lady's backing, not to mention Leo's, for Anne to spend her evenings in the West Wing whenever she so desired. He also knew that Anne was able to handle Toby when the need arose. They had been very careful to keep to the letter of the unwritten rule about when she would take up residence in his office every day. Josh could count on one hand the number of times Anne had arrived before seven pm that did not revolve around some sort of official function.

"Until recently, I was unaware that Andrea had been offered the same opportunity to spend evenings here," Toby continued. "And I was perhaps a little but jealous that your marriage has survived this Administration whereas mine barely got out of the starting gate. But, as my former wife explained to me this afternoon, we were not you, and our marriage was already on shaky ground from the campaign and other issues we were unable to deal with. So, Anne, Josh, I would like to apologise for questioning your arrangement and belittling what I perceived as unhealthy dependence on each other."

Josh's eyebrows rose and his mouth had dropped open. Recently he had been very aware that Toby's fixation on sofas around the West Wing had arisen due to him asking Toby to not sit on Anne's sofa. A sudden kick in his thigh made him jump and he realised that Toby was staring at him, waiting for him to talk.

"Thanks, Toby, we'll put it behind us."

"He's right, Toby, it's forgotten."

"Thank you, both," Toby said.

"You sure you don't want a beer?" Josh asked, holding his own bottle up in indication.

"Why not?" Toby acquiesced. Josh gently moved Anne's feet from his lap and walked over to his bar fridge to retrieve a couple more bottles. He opened them and brought them back, handing one to Toby and sitting back down. Anne's feet went straight back into his lap. Toby and Josh turned their attention back onto the television on the bookshelf while Anne reopened her laptop and started to type.

"This guy's an idiot!" Toby said after a few minutes of listening to the Congressman being interviewed on CNN.

"See! I told you!"

"Mmm."

"Do you believe thirty five thousand people voted for this douche?" Josh asked.

Toby snorted. "I can't believe he got even one vote," he replied.

"See, Toby agrees with me," Josh said, pressing his fingers gently into Anne's knee.

"Mmm."

Toby smirked as he took a drink from his bottle. The two men continued to heckle the unwitting Congressman and plotted his eventual demise from American politics. After Anne and Josh had packed up and left for the night and Toby was turning out the lights in his office, he looked at the sofa against the wall.

That sofa might not have been able to save his marriage. But it appeared the one in Josh's office was the saving grace of his.

.

_Please review._


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